Little Wonders
by Jeni27
Summary: All Sherlock wants is some cake. Molly has other ideas.


_**Disclaimer: I own nothing. If you recognize, I don't own it.**_

 **Little Wonders**

" _Let it go/Let it roll right off your shoulder/Don't you know/The hardest part is over?  
Let it in/Let your clarity define you/In the end/We will only just remember how it feels"_

The first time Sherlock Holmes met Molly Hooper, he was five and she was all of four months old. She was swaddled up in a blanket, and being held by her grandmother. Molly's mother, Sherlock's godmother, had just died and they were at the luncheon that was held after the wake. There were whispers amongst the adults that Mrs. Hooper had passed away due to something that Molly had done. Though Sherlock was unsure what an infant could possibly do to kill another person, let alone her own mother. Maybe he would ask Mycroft later.

Maybe.

Right now he wanted a piece of cake. He looked around to ask someone for help in getting one, but the only adult not engrossed in some conversation was the infant-holding-grandmother who seemed to be lost in thought. He sat back with a huff that conveniently drew the woman's attention to him.

"Is something wrong, dear?" She asked quietly.

"I wanted a piece of cake, but everyone is talking to everyone else," was his petulant response. He gestured to all of the people and then at her for good measure.

She smiled warmly at him and said, "I'll get you a piece. Just let me put Little Miss here to bed. She's had a tiring day." She winked at him as she got up and walked toward the hall that he was sure led to the bedrooms.

Sherlock nodded his agreement and waited as patiently as a boy of five can possibly wait when it comes to cake.

He followed her about two minutes later. When he arrived at the room that he was sure was the nursery, he cautiously stepped into it and arrived in another world.

It was painted as something straight out of Neverland. A pirate ship floated in the ocean on one wall, and a mermaid lagoon sat just a little way off from it. On another wall, a young pirate child was looking at a treasure map, and yet another wall was painted with a forest of trees and little fairies flying about.

He was quite jealous of the little girl – that was not as asleep as her grandmother had believed she was. She was squirming around in her blankets and starting to fuss a bit. Sherlock looked around for the grandmother, but she had already left.

The little girl started to fuss and whimper, and though she wasn't making too much noise, Sherlock could tell that she was quite upset.

Not knowing what else to do, he walked over to the cradle and looked at the little infant. She was smaller than he originally thought. She had wide brown eyes with large glassy teardrops in them. Her little mouth was formed in a pout, and her face was turning red from being upset.

Sherlock didn't know what he should do. Go get one of the adults? Find Mycroft? That one was instantly ruled out. Molly started whimpering more and he was struck by how quiet she was. He had always thought babies were loud. At least all of the babies at the doctor's office were. He hated going to see the doctor for that reason alone. He reached into her crib and brought his finger gently down her cheek. "You need to hush, Little Miss. 'Else your grandmum will come back and I won't get my cake." She stopped crying and stared at him with her big brown eyes.

"Good. That's good." He started to draw his hand away, but Molly latched onto his finger with a tight grip and she wouldn't let go.

"No. No," he said as he pulled his digit out of her tight grasp. She immediately started fussing again making the small boy sigh at her. "You can't do that. You're supposed to be asleep, and I want my cake," he huffed at her. She whimpered some more.

"Fine. But first, just..." He sighed as he looked at the cradle and determined how much space there was next to her. He decided that the cradle was rather large and he could easily fit himself in it next to her. So he grasped the sides of it and pulled himself up and over the edge. He then crawled gently next to her and hummed a lullaby to her that his mother always hummed to him when he couldn't sleep.

The tiny girl once again latched onto his finger and finally fell asleep.

~SH }-,-'- MH~

 _Our lives are made/In these small hours/These little wonders/These twists and turns of fate  
Time falls away/But these small hours/These small hours still remain_

~SH }-,-'- MH~

After putting her granddaughter to bed, Mrs. Hudson made her way to the treats table to procure the promised cake for the poor boy. 'He must be so bored,' she thought, 'the poor dear.' The cake was made of German chocolate and had been her daughter-in-law's favorite when she had been alive.

Mrs. Hudson went about cutting a piece for the boy and then went back to the sitting room, only to find that the boy was now missing.

"Is anything wrong, Martha?" Asked Mrs. Wemmith from next door.

Mrs. Hudson searched the room before turning her attention to the other lady. "There was a boy sitting on the chair just there a few minutes ago," she gestured to the sitting area, "did you happen to see him go anywhere?"

Mrs. Wemmith thought about it for a moment and then said, "I did see a boy wander down the hall a few minutes ago. Perhaps he had to use the facilities?

Mrs. Hudson nodded her agreement and was about to sit down and wait for the young man to come back. Just as she was about to move away though, a rather harried Mrs. Holmes came rushing up to them.

"Have you seen Sherlock? I can't seem to find him anywhere!"

"Who, dear?" Mrs. Hudson asked.

Mrs. Holmes, already exasperated at having to search for her youngest at yet another gathering was ready to explode. She took a deep breath to try to calm her raging fear and explained in as calm as a voice that she could manage, "He's about this tall," she raised her hand to her waist. "He has black curly hair, blue-green eyes…"

"Oh! The boy I got this piece of cake for!" Mrs. Hudson cried.

Mrs. Holmes visibly relaxed. And then Mrs. Hudson said, "I'm not certain where he wandered off to. We had thought he went to the facilities."

Mrs. Holmes groaned.

~SH }-,-'- MH~

 _Let it slide/Let your troubles fall behind you/Let it shine/Until you feel it all around you  
And I don't mind/If it's me you need to turn to/We'll get by/It's the heart that really matters in the end_

~SH }-,-'- MH~

They searched everywhere they could think of for him, but it was only when Mrs. Hudson decided that she needed to check on her granddaughter that he was found.

Laying in Molly's crib, curled around a tiny baby, was Sherlock Holmes. The scene made Martha think of past Christmases when her mother would set up the Nativity and allow Martha to place the Baby Jesus and the angel into the scene.

Mrs. Holmes came rushing into the room behind her, stuttering to a stop, and breaking Martha's reverie.

There was a breathless "Oh!" And then the other lady hurried out just as fast as she had come in. She returned rather quickly, dragging her husband behind and holding a camera. She dropped her husband's hand and immediately started snapping pictures.

As she snapped away, she quietly explained to Martha, "He's never this still. Even when he sleeps at home, he is always twisting and turning, and talking in his sleep. He even has night terrors sometimes. He refuses naps too. I had almost despaired of him ever getting any real sleep.

She was quiet for a moment, and then, "I have never seen him so peaceful. What about you, Siger?" She asked, turning to her husband.

He shook his head in agreement. "No. Never."

"Well then," Mrs. Holmes seemed to gather her wits about her, "we were going to set off for home, but I do believe we could stay a couple more hours. At least until they wake up." She gave a small smile and the three adults turned to leave the room.

~SH }-,-'- MH~

 _Our lives are made/In these small hours/These little wonders/These twists and turns of fate  
Time falls away/But these small hours/These small hours still remain_

 _All of my regret/Will wash away some how  
But I can not forget/The way I feel right now_

~SH }-,-'- MH~

As the door quietly shut behind them, Molly Hooper smacked her lips together and grasped Sherlock's finger tighter, while Sherlock snuggled deeper into the blanket that he had pulled up around himself and pulled the little girl that much closer to him.

A/N: I know that there is bound to be someone that is going to be upset and/or angry that this is not an update for Seer or Teenage Years. I'm sorry. Please don't be too angry. This happened, I enjoyed writing it. I hope you enjoy reading it. Please leave a review.

~Jeni


End file.
